


Guess Again

by elletromil



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 08:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11271462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: “Is it Alastair?”“No.”“Duncan?”"No."James is trying to guess what Merlin's real name is.He's not really successful





	Guess Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SherlockianonFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianonFire/gifts).



> This is for the fantastic sherlockianonfire who wanted something about James after he joined Kingsman and I came up with the idea of him trying to guess Merlin’s name. Thank you for the inspiration that led me to write this :D

“Is it Alastair?”

Merlin doesn’t ask what James is going on about, for the very good reason that the man has been trying for over a month now to guess his name. It was amusing at first, but now it’s starting to get annoying.

“No.”

“Duncan?”

“No.”

For a moment, he thinks James has actually heed the wordless warning in his tone, but it’s not long before he realises the Knight was simply too busy unlocking the door to Miss Lidia’s office.

“John then?”

“No.” He hears James takes another breath through the comms and stops him before he can make another guess. “And now Lancelot, if you do not focus on the mission at hand, I will reactivate the alarms and let you fight your way back to HQ without any help.”

James chuckles, but keeps silent for the rest of the mission and Merlin sends a quick prayer of thanks to a god he has never believed in.

*

“Archibal.”

Merlin puts his screwdriver down with a long suffering sigh and tries to remember that blessed time where James was still terrified of him.

Not that James doesn’t fear him anymore, but for some reason, his personal quest to find out his real name infuse him with more courage than ever before.

Or he’s just lost all the survival instincts he had left already, like all the other Knights.

“No.”

“Leslie.”

Years of being teased endlessly by Harry ensure that he doesn’t twitch at hearing the name he had chosen for his dog back in the days.

He would think that Harry has put him up to it, but when he inevitably answers ‘no’, James has already jumped onto the next name.

“Rosaire.”

“I’m Scot, not bloody French.” Sending James on a bogus mission just to get him far, far away from him is becoming more and more tempting.

“… Scott?”

For a moment, Merlin just stares at him in disbelief.

“No. Just- No. Strange a notion as it might be to you, my parents actually liked me.” They had been excentrics yes, but never at the detriment of their only son they doted on. They loved him too much to risk him being ridiculed for being Scott the Scot.

Before he can lose himself in the happy memories of his childhood however, James makes another guess, completely ruining the moment.

“Is it Bob?”

Feeling a headache coming, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fend it off.

“Lancelot,” at hearing his title, James gulps audibly and he takes a step back when he notices how Merlin’s hand hover dangerously close to the tools scattered on his desk, “if you don’t leave me be in the next minute, I will not only throw that screwdriver at your head, but make sure you spend the rest of your life in Siberia.”

James doesn’t come near Merlin for a good week after that.

*

“Mordred.”

He groans in despair and seriously consider throwing the bottle of cheap whiskey at his head. The only reason he doesn’t do actually do it is because he loathes wasting any kind of alcohol and that bottle is still half full.

“Nae,” drunk as they all are, he doesn’t bother trying to smother his accent. It’s not like Chester is there to complain anyway.

“It’s actually Merlin.”

“If only,” _that_ would actually have been a funny coincidence, well worth any teasing he would have gotten over it back in school.

“Arthur?”

“We’re not actually in a bedtime story James.”

“Will you at least tell me if I guess right?”

“Nae.”

“But I could,” Harry says the words with what might have been an innocent smile if he hadn’t been too sloshed to control his facial muscles anymore.

“But you _won’t_ , because I know your real name too.”

That shuts Harry up pretty quickly, but no one can miss the calculating way James now looks at him.

“Bloody fuck no!” Percival sudden exclamation make them all jump, not because they had forgotten his presence but simply because he was usually a quiet drunk. “I am not listening to you trying to guess _his_ name too. Hardick, his real name’s Hardick.”

“Traitor!” Harry’s barely heard over the sound of James’ guffawing and his subsequent falling on the floor, but Percival looks entirely unapologetic.

“Next time you’ll think twice before raiding my chocolate stash.” Judging by the look on Harry’s face, he’ll probably continue to raid it just out of spite.

“Don’t think of saying my name now,” Merlin adds in a hurry just to be sure he doesn’t get any ideas, “I still know your middle name.”

Luckily for Harry, James is too busy rolling on the floor laughing to hear it. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of Percival and Merlin sees the exact moment the other Knight realise the blackmail potential of that tidbit of information if he can manage to find out about it. And knowing the man, he’ll find exactly why Harry hates his middle name even more than his actual name as soon as he sobers up.

*

“Angus.”

The only answer James gets this time is the sound of Merlin hitting his head against his desk. Not that the lack of a verbal response discourage James in any way.

“Gunther.”

It’s a that point that Merlin starts entertaining the fantasy of smacking his head hard enough to knock himself out and not have to deal with James anymore. But Harry would never let him live that one down and that is definitely a way worse fate than hearing whatever James comes up with next.

“Gaylord.”

Or maybe not.

“James, I swear, I will kill you and no one will ever find your body.”

For a moment, he fears that he’ll truly have to hurt James to show just how much he’s serious about it. Thankfully, it doesn’t come down to it.

However, instead of leaving like he always does after being blown off, this time James stays in Merlin’s office, slumping into an empty chair. It’s uncharacteristic enough that Merlin stops trying to focus on the mission reports he’s got to review.

“Why do you even want to know anyway?” There’s nothing new in people getting curious about his real name, but no one has ever spend such time and energy into it.

James is silent for such a long that Merlin gives up on ever finding out the reasons behind his interest. In fact, he nearly jumps when James does start talking, having start to read through the reports on his desk again.

“We had a bet, Lee and I. About who would be the first to find out what was your real name.”

“Oh…” Of all the explanations he could have thought of, that one had never crossed his mind. “Were they some of his guesses?”

“Yes and no… I tried them all, except for the last one he told me about. Never felt right somehow.”

Merlin nods in understanding. They had been close, James and Lee, even before they were the only two left during the trials to become the next Lancelot. If Lee really had found Merlin’s real name somehow, James wouldn’t cheat by using that information. He would either succeed in hacking his records like he had been attempting to for months or guess until there would be only that name left.

It is kind of ridiculous, but the Knights have always been just that. And Merlin would know, he’s been friend with Harry for well over a decade now.

He raises a hand to stop James from leaving after his little confession and walks up to him, getting close enough to whisper in his ear a name he’s done his best to erase from any records imaginable.

“Oh.” Bittersweet amusement isn’t usually the reaction his name would evoke, but James’ next words explain it easily. “I always knew Lee was a better spy than me.”

As he drags James into a comforting hug, he doesn’t bother telling him that they were both good in different aspects of the job, because it’s not what this is about. It’s about remembering those who were lost along the way and paying them the respect they’re due.

It’s about never forgetting friends and their sacrifices.


End file.
